rep-a-ra-tion
by this is my pseudonym
Summary: She brings him to his knees. Every time. It was humbling, the power she held. If only he could be the supplicant she deserved. - Sequel to in•fat•u•a•tion


Reparation: the making of amends for wrong or injury done; restoration to good condition; repair.

He hung on for as long as he could, which turned out to be not very long at all. For him. Three revolutions of the Earth; the Tardis around in the Time Vortex, which amounted to about 13.3 seconds. But she was stubborn, his old girl, and fiercely loyal. Rose had stolen his ship's heart the moment she'd said, wolf grin on display, "You think you're so impressive!"

For Rose, it had been two years. By the time he'd landed, it had been too late, he was already part of the time stream and he couldn't go back. He'd never hated his old girl more in that moment. He'd never hated _himself_ more, for alienating both his best girls.

_She needed Time, my love. Absence and fondness and all that… and healing. They are proverbs for a reason_.

He sighed, dropped his head, tried to lighten the moment with, "Time schmime." He only succeeded in making himself feel stupid. He was doing that a lot lately and he was very much afraid that he would keep doing it. Hopefully, in future with Rose aboard, it would be the kind of stupid she laughed at and not the kind she cried at.

Deep breathes were supposed to help, so the Doctor breathed in once, twice, three times and then held it. He released it in a gush and yanked his coat on, almost tearing it in his agitation. He couldn't care less. Janis Joplin would not be yet another woman standing between him and his Rose. He straightened his back, his battle armor in place, and marched out the door. He would endure one Jackie slap before he demanded to see Rose and he would not take any of the older Tyler's shite. This was between himself and his woman and it was about time Jackie learned that. The Oncoming Storm was on the warpath.

It was a bit of a let-down, he contemplated minutes later as he sat at Jackie's kitchen table, tea in hand and a subdued Jackie across from him. He didn't even get his usual slap and Rassilon forbid, he actually _missed_ it. He sipped his tea, wincing as his slurp echoed throughout the silent, dreary kitchen. _Perhaps_, he mused, _it is because I know things aren't dire when there's a Jackie slap to be had. They're quite comical I have to admit, once the pain recedes._

"Cardiff."

The Doctor jerked slightly, his mind coming back to the present as he focused on the haggard looking woman. He was concerned. They'd yet to speak and her first words are of a city in Wales. She might have gone daft.

"Yes, well, lovely place, Cardiff. The best place to refuel the Tardis, don't you know, faster than any other-"

"Doctor! I know why you're here. Rose'd said you'd never come after her, but I knew different. But she's not here. She's in Cardiff." Her hand slid over a folded post-it note as she spoke.

He blinked. That was unexpected and too easy. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, gently sliding the note into his coat pocket. "Why're you telling me this?"

"Because, Doctor, Rose isn't complete without you. She says she's 'appy, but I know my little girl. Her smile's not as big; her laugh's not as loud. She's missin' half her heart and you, I wager, are missin' one o' yours."

A hand slipped into the Doctor's hair and he startled, unaware he'd lowered his face towards the floor. "I want her 'appy. And, believe it or not, I want you 'appy. The easiest way to do that is to not play games."

Tears tracked their way towards the Doctor's chin, but gravity pulled them to puddle into the material of his pants, darkening the fabric slightly. Marks of battle, badges of his dishonor and he couldn't speak. The one time he didn't deserve this remarkable woman's kindness is the one time he received it. And the universe was all the crueler for it.

"Wha-" he stopped to clear his throat, make his voice stronger, "what's she doing in Cardiff?"

Jackie smiled a little smile. It was their game. He didn't say thanks and she didn't tell him he was welcome. "I think, somewhere in her heart of hearts, she was waitin' there for you. She'd never admit it of course."

"Of course," came out a strangled whisper. It made sense. One day he'd need to refuel, no matter how many days or years had passed for him. And maybe she'd see him, but he wouldn't see her. She'd hide, getting her fill while he languished in the barren tundra she'd left him with. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right, but then, his dalliance with Reinette was neither of those things as well.

With a slow nod and tip of the imaginary hat, the Doctor stood and placed his tea cup in the sink. As he passed by Jackie, slumped in her chair, he hesitated, then gave her an awkward, one-armed hug.

"Tha-"

She shrugged him off viciously and screeched, "We don't do that!"

"Right! Just trying something new; didn't work out." The words were barely out of his mouth when his butt was already disappearing out the front door

* * *

The first address on the paper, a very quaint little flat (and by quaint, he meant sparse and cold), was devoid of any Rose, so the Doctor quickly redirected the Tardis to the second address on Rohld Dahl Plass. There was a specific office number on the paper and as the Doctor navigated directly to that room, he couldn't help but think he was rescuing Rose from a fate worse than death. He couldn't see her as the suit-wearing, office-sitting type. Of course, she'd be 23 by now; only the ageless never really change. It was ironic, really.

Sufficiently depressed, the Doctor landed the Tardis with a thump and then stepped out, hoping to see that familiar golden face. The room was empty. And drab. And small. The Doctor couldn't imagine Rose in this place any more than he could imagine Jackie eating less like a camel and more like a human. As he turned about, getting ready to leave the room in search of a certain woman, the door flew open and popped him one in the nose.

"Ouch!"

Rose's face, sunshine on a rainy day (or rain on a sunshiny day, depending on mood and disposition) lit up like a Christmas tree for the barest of moments, before deflating like a pricked balloon. All in all, a better haul than the Doctor thought he would get.

"What you doing here? An' how'd you find me?"

"Rose, I'm the Doctor! I'm the finder of things! Quite magnificent at it, really, if-"

The frown on Rose's face told the Doctor that he was on thin ice so he put away the fake, bright smile and the blathering idiot façade and, for once, made himself be real. The stripped down version of the Doctor; The Doctor Unplugged Tour, if you will.

"That should be a tee shirt."

"What should be a tee shirt? And answer my damn questions!"

The Doctor winced. Rose'd never yelled at him, not for real after that whole saving dad thing. In this instance, it was even worse. Perhaps he wasn't being as real as he'd thought. But it was hard. Hard to change a habit of ten lifetimes, hard to open himself up when all that happens is he gets hurt.

_Closed m'self off, tried to keep Rose at a distance. Still got hurt. Not a great system, that._

"I want you back. And your mum told me where to find you."

Crossing his arms, the Doctor nodded his head. Rose stared at him, eyes red rimmed and hair askew. Her cheeks were flushed a healthy red and her clothes were spattered with mud. Confused, he exclaimed, "I say! What sort of office building is this that you look like you mugged somebody for their morning coffee?"

A small, nearly genuine smile graced Rose's face for a second before she said, "This is Torchwood Three, Doctor. We're sort of like UNIT, except we don't work with the government."

Chuckling, the Doctor murmured, "Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. How long…?"

Rose settled against the door, arms and legs crossed as she studied him. Forcing himself not to fidget, the Doctor studied right back.

"Year and a half, little over. Since I stopped the army of ghosts and found Jack again."

There was a reprimand in there somewhere, the Doctor could feel it. Just what he needed. More problems. Bowing his head, the Doctor murmured, "You neatly sidestepped the whole 'I want you back' bit."

A deep sigh sent fresh Rose-scent into the Doctor's face and he breathed in greedily. He almost missed her saying, "Actually, _you_ neatly sidestepped it for me. Practically had it tied up with a bow."

They chuckled softly, half-hearted at best, before a slightly uncomfortable silence fell.

"I have a life here. One I'm content with, you know?"

"You once told me you'd never leave me."

"So did you."

He could hear the unspoken words: _You broke __**your**__ promise first._

"I could say it, Doctor, we both know I could and I'd be right, but I'm tired of being a broken record. I'm tired of whining like a little girl whose mum denied her a lolly."

She nibbled her nails in agitation, eyes dark with bags and cheeks haggard from forgetting to eat. Her lids cast down over her eyes for a moment and the Doctor's hearts stopped in time. They came up, hazel orbs glistering with un-fallen tears in the unforgiving light of her office and she whispered, so quietly that he had to lean a little bit closer to catch it:

"Time's been lonely without you, but I needed it. I've lived, I've loved, I've laughed. You weren't my be all-end all; and you know what?"

She looked up at him, eyes bright, tears finally free to dance down her face, mouth trembling on a smile like a delicate leaf in the wind.

"It's a good thing, even though it makes my heart weep sometimes; even though I think, 'he was my soulmate, it _shouldn't_ be all right!' But it's got to be, yeah? 'Cause now I know I can survive anythin', if I can survive a missin' heart."

The Doctor's eyes stung violently, like he had a thousand little blue devils in the back of his sockets, poking them with white-hot tridents. His Rose was wonderful, gorgeous, even with pieces glued back on in the wrong order. If she went with him (even if she didn't), he'd fix this. She won't be another morbid casualty in a child's fairytale; she won't be Humpty Dumpty because this King's man was determined to put her back together again.

Voice wobbly with un-shed tears, the Doctor whispered, "You should never have to know what it's like to survive without your heart, Rose. But if-if that's what you want, I'll try to stay out of sight while I stalk you down the streets of Cardiff."

Rose's lips tipped up in a firmer, realer smile, just for a moment, before her mouth straightened out. The Doctor dipped his head, trying to catch the fleeing thing before it was totally gone.

"Was that a smile?"

"No."

"I saw a smIIIIiile!" His voice tipped up in that familiar way, with this familiar verse, as hope started to seep into his soul.

His eyes gazed into Rose's and hers bored into his, searching for something; honesty maybe, contrition. His searched for absolution that he knew would be long in coming. Things weren't fixed, weren't back to normal or better by any means, but at least they were communicating. That had to be a start.

"I've _missed_ the stars!"

Rose's tensed shoulders relaxed, her gaunt features softened, and she smiled… and let it stay. The Doctor smiled brightly back, mouth spread so wide the freckles on his face throbbed in protest. He watched as Rose stuck her hand out, but he buried the little ping in his hearts and stuck out his own, grasping her's firmly and pumping firmly twice. As they pulled back, skin grazed skin, promising _someday_.

The ticking of the clock nearly overrode the Doctor's last statement before he stepped into the Tardis: "If it's all the same to you, though, Rose, you'll still be _my_ be all-end all, okay?"

If he wasn't mistaken and, let's face it, he's the Doctor — he rarely is — Rose might have nodded… just the tiniest bit.


End file.
